


The Annoy-the-Driver Game

by E350tb



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Babies, Future Fic, Lance is an annoying shit, M/M, but that's why we love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21986566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E350tb/pseuds/E350tb
Summary: Keith, Lance and their toddler son are stuck in traffic, and Lance is an enormous troll.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	The Annoy-the-Driver Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [realfakedoors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/realfakedoors/gifts).



> It's a lovely day in the traffic jam, and you are a horrible Lance.
> 
> A Christmas present for my very best friend, realfakedoors - Leo is her OC. :) Merry Christmas, friend.

**The Annoy-the-Driver Game**

There’d been a traffic accident at the intersection ahead, and all traffic was stopped. Consequently, Keith was hunched over the steering wheel, trying and somewhat failing to look calm. Lance couldn’t help but smirk as he watched him - back arched, shoulders tense and shooting up, his fingers trembling ever so slightly on the wheel. He gave the impression of a man who absolutely, totally did not want to be bothered in the slightest.

 _Time for some fun_ , Lance thought.

Lance turned to the back seat. Leo sat on his booster chair, snoozing quietly - just the way Keith liked it right now. So naturally, Lance tended to ruin that state of affairs immediately.

“Hey _Leee-oooo!_ ”

Leo yawned and woke up, blinking his sleepy eyes. He stared at Lance, blinking.

“You wanna play a game with your favourite papa?”

Leo blinked and glanced at Keith.

“No, I mean _me!_ ” exclaimed Lance.

His grin widened as he heard the squeak of leather as Keith clenched harder on the steering wheel.

“I wanna…” Leo pondered for a moment, staring out the window. A friendly-looking yellow car was waiting next to them, and he smiled.

“I wanna pway punch buddeh.”

“Okay!” said Lance cheerfully. “Who else wants to play punch buggy?”

He and Leo raised their hands. Keith, if anything, seemed to be trying to fuse his into the steering wheel in the vain hope that they might appear lower. He had the impression of a man who had just left an anger management class, and was desperately fighting a losing battle to put his lessons into practice.

“Two against one! Punch buggy time!” Lance deliberately glanced out the passenger window, his face taking on an impish quality as he glanced at the yellow buggy. His fist clenched and he held it next to Keith’s arm.

“Punch buggy ye-”

“No,” said Keith, his voice totally, dangerously even. “You don’t want to do that.”

Lance paused. He swallowed ever so slightly.

“PUNCH BUDDEH YEWWOW!”

He gazed to the back. Leo was punching the air, grinning as he aimed his all-too-short punches at Keith’s distant arm.

“PUNCH BUDDEH YEWWOW! PUNCH BUDDEH YEWWOW!” he cried again and again, before bursting into giggles. Lance made a show of joining in the laughter.

Keith contemplated the sweet release of death. At least there was only one buggy around… 

The traffic moved up, ever so slightly, and the car stopped next to an old and weathered used car lot. The sign, blowing in the wind next to one of those vaguely unsettling noodle balloons with the long arms, carried the lot’s name in cheerful pink letters; ‘HONEST STEVE’S USED VOLKSWAGENS! LOW, LOW PRICES!’ And in the lot, lined up in neat little rows, were dozens and dozens of colourful little beetles.

Keith closed his eyes as Lance and Leo both began to yell.

“ _Punch buggy pink! Punch buggy black! Punch buggy green!_ ”

“ _Punch buddeh wed! Punch buddeh purble! Bunch buddeh b’ue!_ ”

“ _Punch buggy magentia!_ ”

He exhaled through his nose.

“ _Lance_ ,” he said, very softly, “would you mind finding a different game?”

Lance grinned a shit-eating grin as he sat back, glancing to the toddler in the booster seat.

“Sorry, kiddo, looks like dad doesn’t want to have fun,” he said.

Leo frowned.

“Is dad sad?” he asked, his lip quivering ever so slightly.

“No, son, dad’s just contemplating life as a single parent,” replied Keith flatly.

“We’d better cheer him up, huh kiddo?” exclaimed Lance, leaning down and opening the glove compartment.

“Lance, what’re you…”

Keith’s eyes widened as Lance pulled out a red CD case with a yellow triangle mascot and big, friendly bubble-writing on the cover; _Annoying Songs for Small Children._ A sense of pure, ice-cold dread ran through him.

“No. Lance, do _not_ put that…”

“Who wants to listen to dad’s _favourite album?_ ” asked Lance.

Leo clapped and cheered in affirmation. Meanwhile, Keith looked as though he were staring down an oncoming bus.

“Lance, _I swear to god_ …”

“Okay, here we go!” Lance opened the case and slipped the CD into the tray, smirking as it slid in.

“Lance, I will fu… I will _slaughter_ you…”

“It’s your favourite song, Keith!” exclaimed Lance. “It’s your _favourite song!_ ”

“ ** _LAAAAAANCE!!!_** ”

As Keith writhed in a white hot anger so all-consuming that it almost felt painful, and Lance grinned like he’d just won ten lotteries in a row, and Leo babbled happily in the back, the song began to play.

 _“IIIIIII’ve been workin’ on the raaaaaail-_ ”

* * *

“I’m sorry, officer, my hands slipped and I veered off.”

“Really? Because we got told someone saw you trying to strangle your passenger.”

Keith kept his face as even as possible as the officer questioned him, as if his dented car being parked next to a destroyed fire hydrant was the most normal thing in the world. A light spray of water was still coming down on his already soaked body - he knew he’d have to change out of his uncomfortable, damp clothes when they’d get home, and that was still ten minutes away.

“It must’ve been a trick of the light, officer.”

“Hmm… alright, consider this a warning. Get on your way now, sir.”

As the policeman walked back to his car, Keith slowly turned around and climbed back into the car, smiling serenely. He might have looked like he was in a pleasant mood, if it weren’t for his slightly wide eyes.

Lance, for his part, was dead silent.

“Okay,” he said, his tone faux-cheerful, “we’re going to get Leo some ice cream from the store…”

“Yay!” Leo cheered.

“Papa can’t have any.”

“That’s fair,” nodded Lance.

“Also, Papa is sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“That’s also fair.”

Keith nodded contentedly and pulled back onto the road.

**Author's Note:**

> And then Lance was exiled to the couch for forty days and forty nights.


End file.
